


A Different Cinderella Tale

by PandorasWritingDesk



Series: Remakes: Classic Stories, New Twist [3]
Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Cinderella - All Media Types
Genre: (Simon vs. jokes give me strength), Abuse trigger warning cause the stepmother and stepsister are manipulative women who hate her, F/M, Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy, IT GOOD, The Prince is gay, The fairy godmothers a sweety too, Trans Cinderella, and she won't let the fact Cindy's trans go, definitely didn't steal that from Disney sequels, evil stepmom is the ice queen, go watch it plz, got this off a Tumblr post, huzzah, i mean GAAAAAAY, one of the sisters is a sweetheart, otherwise have fun, the other sister's an ass but she tries, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandorasWritingDesk/pseuds/PandorasWritingDesk
Summary: Cindy just wants to get the body she knows she was meant to have, but whenever she gets close to accepting herself, her stepmother ensures she's pushed 12 paces back. Can Cindy get her happy ending by herself or will she be trapped in her own self shame?A slightly revised take on a memorized story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So read the tag for triggers, otherwise, have fun with this little fairytale retelling I really like.

Cindy groaned as she stared at herself in the mirror. The dress looked crooked, even with the corset and ribbons and gloves, it didn't sit right on her stocky shoulders. It didn't brush the bottoms of her toned knees and it stopped short above her ankles without the heels she had searched so long to find. Tears were welling in her eyes as she seethed at the flawed vision in the mirror.

She looked like a woman, she had ridded herself of the short stubble with the closest shave she could possible get away with, sparing from nicking her cheeks, and had bathed away any remnants of the soot and ash that would cake on her now glowing and raw skin. Her short blond locks were carefully shorn to hide their boyish bob and form a curled halo covering her annoying perky ears.

She felt beautiful, staring at herself in only the clothes her step sisters had thrown down into the cellar after her father had died and hell had become her home. But those clothes didn't make her womanly, they were meant to exaggerate her lack of femininity and she had prayed for days on end that the dress her mother had worn so lavishly would give her what she had craved. The endeavor of even being able to make herself ready, collecting the myriad of lentils from the ash with only the most help three mice she'd cared for could give her had taken hours but had been completed with ease when compared to second half of her requirement to be taken to the ball. To appear womanly.

A sob ran past her lips as she begged herself to swell, to form the crest of womanhood she so longed, to have a stomach that would grow with child from a love she would never met with this disgusting body with its foul appendages and rough outline. A creak sounded and she whipped around to meet her stepsister's wide, green eyes. A sigh ran through her at the sight of the kinder and more understanding Alena. "Goodness... What have you done with your waist?"

“I've failed again. I can never be happy, can I Alena?” Cindy allowed the tears to stream from her eyes, gripping her hair in anguish as the brunette ran over to her.  
"No, no don't cry! Look, I promise you haven't done anything badly," she fussed, trying to see Cindy's watering amber eyes. The shaking girl sniffled as Alena clutched her hands, flashing her a kind smile. "Listen, you look positively gorgeous, darling. Just like you always do.But I think your corsets on wrong."

Cindy wiped her nose, leaning into the kind hand as her usually sweet chime of a voice came out frail and weak. "Then...Would you please help me? I tried doing what I did for you but... But..-” Alena shushed her as she wiped away the slowing tears. Alena hurriedly untied the back of her dress and got to work on the corset lacing, muttering endearments at how beautiful she was as Cindy let a weak smile grow on her lips.

"See, you weren't tight enough. I used to do the same to my sister's. This may be hard to breathe in, but you'll look fantastic." Cindy chuckled, clutching a chair in anticipation.

"Do you truly think so?"

"Completely," Allie said with a grunt as she tightened the strings, Cindy letting out a high gasp. "Almost there, don't worry." With three more pulls and a stomach that felt uncomfortable for even a snake, Cindy was left wary, standing on unsure limbs to see her new figure.

Her fingers glided over her now curved sides, her eyes wide at the sight of her body. Alena smiled beside her as she turned to see the dip her back formed, to see how her shoulders raised slightly and to watch the ease of her hips.

"Alena? Promise me I am not dreaming."  
Her sister chuckled, squeezing the other's strong yet petite hand.

"You are quite awake, my dear sister, and you look so beautiful that my mother will only have one thing to tell you once you slip into that dress."

Cindy honestly wanted to cry again but she hid it in a bright laugh as she clutched her sister. The two threw the gown back over her, grinning at the way it spun with her as Cindy laughed.  
\------------------

"Well he could pass for a hermaphrodite."

Cindy held her breath as Eleanor circled her, heartless green eyes screwed in scrutiny. The red haired girl had a special hate for her stepbrother, mostly for his insufferable outcries when it came to the whole 'trapped as a boy' lie. Besides, he'd driven her innocent sister to believe his madness. It was pure insanity! Of course, Cindy could deal with the angry girl, but her stepmother was another matter altogether.

The woman rose from her chair, signaling the sisters back to their places behind her, one smiling with cold anger and the other bowed in tired obedience. Her stepmother was once jokingly called the 'Frost Giant' by a visitor before her father had died and Cindy still shook at the exactness of such a comment. Her hair was always up in a bun that shrunk her already sunken eyes, high cheek bones showing her still indisputable beauty, and a frame that balanced shoulder pads with the weight of stone tablets. Her entire aura was that of force and power and it had grown into a thick palpable cloud as the years of Cindy's entrapment prolonged, keeping her here for she would be killed outside.

Who would show mercy to a creature like her? She had only to bear this woman's wrath here but outside, she'd be better off lynched or burned than mocked days on end without a single glimpse of kindness. So she flashed the woman a smile as she stood before her, knowing that soon that smile would be replaced by sobs yet, she'd still have worn it either way.

"Curtis," she seethed, Cindy's eyes glued to her snarling face as her cheek was pulled harshly up to her, "you look utterly atrocious! I swear, I bought you that tux for a reason. You could have presented yourself with one of your sisters at the very least if you had done that," her stepmother spoke with such venom that Cindy fought the urge to lean away, to give her the satisfaction of her own discomfort. "And what is this over worn cloth doing in my house. By God, it looks more gray than blue! And you want to go to the palace in these shambles! Well," the woman began, ringed fingers forming a fist in the girl's dress, directly above her diaphragm. "You have only shown me one thing. That you are, undoubtedly, no woman!"

The frail lace tore away from the gown, causing a gasp to flutter past Cindy's trembling lips. In no time at all her fiery sister was upon her, yanking at the train. She closed her eyes to keep from tearing, covered her mouth as she held back screams. Carnage was the word she thought of when she saw their handy work. The belt was pulled away, the shoulders were yanked and torn, and the frail bust had been ripped open to show her awful bound chest. She blocked out their insults of grotesque masculinity as she fell to the floor with a cry. She clutched her shoulders, feeling utterly violated, practically raped. A blow to her stomach from a thin shoe had tears erupt from her eyes, as Alena ran out to meet the carriage before the coachman came inside.

"You are no woman, and you are not coming to this ball."

"We'd offend the prince if we brought something as ugly as you," Eleanor finished with a fatal smirk as she skipped after her towering mother, proud to have aided her in the destruction of the one she hated so.

Cindy cried on the floor, nowhere to hide and no place to run. She wanted to simply cry until her eyes fell out and she'd never have to see herself again. She wanted to be struck on the head and fall to the tiles, staining the spotless floors in defiance. She had never been so horribly defeated. All of her sadness and pain collapsed on her in a single heartbeat.  
She missed her family; her mother, her father, the big dog that ran away when her father was gone. She missed riding into the field of wildflowers, she missed being told fairy tales, missed hearing her real name from her mother's lips before she died. The very last story she ever heard was of the beautiful girl who gained her happy ending after so much pain. But, what Cindy missed most was her only true friend.

Long before her father died, she had met a boy when she was riding in her fields, no older than herself. He was witty and kind and generous, sharing a lunch with her and treating her as she had always wished. As an equal. Not once did he question why a girl was wearing riding gear, nor why her hair had been kept long and flowing, despite the heat of that day alone. He merely excepted it silently and used every word she used for herself without her usually pleas. Before he came back he had made a promise to Cindy, a promise that sent hope through her veins when her father had died. If she ever needed him to keep her safe, his door would be open to only her. Now as she laid crying, she prayed to anyone who could listen that the boy would come for her now, in her most certain moment of pain.

A bell rang outside, from the crow alert she'd put through the garden she had grown to find her safe haven. She lifted her weak head, a drive to be seen and held drawing her toward the door. She wiped away her tears and let out a sigh, knowing she would be expected to look pleasant to whomever had come by, regardless of her emotions. She opened the door to be meet by a frail, bronze skinned woman with cupped hands.

"Bread, dear child? Do you have any bread you could spare?"

Cindy gave her a smile and a nod before running into the kitchen.

"Might I come in, dear child?"

"But of course," chirped Cindy, busying herself with preparations for the new guest. "Oh, you need no invitation, do please come out of the cold," she called with concerned sweetness as she warmed a kettle and placed a meal of bread and cheese she had left uneated in her stress.

Cindy wondered why she felt at ease giving a stranger food, but remembered how often her father would do the same, allowing beggars and thieves seats at their dinning table without hesitation.The woman wasn't much older than her stepmother, with skin loose and sagging as wispy black strands protruded from her skull and brushed along her back. Still she put on the kettle as the woman seated herself, humming as her father had once done for women he found kind and charming.

"This house is quite empty, are you alone for the night," she asked, eyes sweeping over the quiet kitchen. Cindy nodded placing a box of tea leaves on the table.

"I am ma'am. Might I ask, what type of tea would you like? You look like you've been in need of a good cup."  
The woman plucked out a chamomile by its thin string with a smile that Cindy happily returned.

"You are quite kind dear child, but I have a thought that will simply not let me be. Why isn't a precious lady like yourself at that fancy ball?"

Cindy's smile fell immediately, her fingers gripping the ripped train of her dress. The thought of what her stepmother had done was not done healing, still festering and weeping. "My dress is ruined. My only dress."

The woman nodded sadly, biting into the bread. "Shame too, used to be such a pretty thing. I could fix it for you. I'm certain that would make you happy, dear Cindy. I know more about you than you know of me and I know what can make you truly happy."

That caused the girl to stare straight into the woman's ancient eyes. She hadn't truly looked at them before and thus, hadn't seen the, now, obvious. Most eyes she had seen were dull and dark, but her's were vibrant and shimmering between shades of pink all the way to deep teals. "Ma'am... Who are you?"

The woman smiled as she placed her cup to her lips. "Someone who wants to see you happy. And maybe, I have the means to give you that."

Cindy blinked at her, leaning towards her as she drank the whole boiling cup in a single gulp. She sighed, letting steam rise from her lips, her age seemed to fade until a dark skinned woman with long red curls sat before her, rags turned to a flowing gown of red and purple. She reminded Cindy of paintings of Artemis and Aphrodite as the woman flashed her a grin with lips of velvety rose.

"Cindy, I am a friend of yours. And I am a great benefit for you."

Cindy was in awe as the woman tucked back her stray curls, the smile growing brighter with each moment. "What do you need ma'am?"

The woman flashed her a knowing glance as she took her pale hand. "Cinderella, I will give you a gift for each person you've treated with only kindness. These gifts are for staying in this home for Alena, for wanting to love a family that didn't love you back, for living through the pain you're parents tried so hard to protect you from. I do not need a single thing from you, for you have given enough to everyone already." Cindy was confused as she felt tears fall from her eyes. The woman gave her a smile and a squeeze of her hand as she said with a firm and courageous voice that sent Cindy into a surge of pure joy, "Now, my sweet child, let’s get you ready for a ball."  
Cindy had never smiled wider her entire life.  
\-----  
Cindy took a deep breath as she stepped out of the golden carriage. The entire five minutes of pure wonder that had gone into her now gorgeous blue dress and sparkling glass and gold shoes were so tremendously confusing and inspiring that she had clung to them the entire half mile to the ball, not a single thought wasted on the looks she might get or who to present herself as, only thoughts of the kindness of the fairy who had granted her a chance at true happiness, at being seen as a beautiful and wanted woman. The fairy had been quite clear about her midnight deadline though and had given her a full five hours to find happiness.

She was received much better than she had anticipated, easily accepted as a peasant who had run late because of the dress she'd been fixing up and met by a lord who asked for a dance with graceful ease. Her feet seemed to guide her as she was spun from one unknown face to another, giving each a sweet smile and a nod before moving on her eyes searching for a hope that began to fester inside her, that she might see the boy again.

Far in the entry to the outside plaza, a man stood, a sigh leaving his crimson lips. He was tall, handsome, and incredible bored. Not because of the women or the ball or the nagging demands his mother had made all day about him needing to find a woman, regardless of his 'preference'. No, in all honesty, the prince was bored because not a single person had dared to start a conversation with him since his mother introduction him to a Lady Fela, a right boring duchess with a daughter who was the appitomy of blandness. A few shy glances were not the thing he needed to weaken his intense longing for an intellectual conversation. So, he was exceedingly surprised when he saw the shimmering golden slippers as a woman stood before him, poised and smiling as a proper woman should but without the restrictive conditions of a chaperone.

"Pardon me sir, but I've become rather tired of dancing. Would you mind sharing a drink with me? I'm not experienced in this kind of event."

He flashed her a honest smile as he offered her a glass. "Good. Wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself. I'd rather not have to laugh at someone as kind as you."

She chuckled at that, a sweet fluttering noise as she sipped the champagne, scrunching up her nose at the taste. "Most certainly I am not. Everyone says I am frail or trivial or disturbed. Kind is a word I have not heard anyone call me in quite some time." Despite the fairy who isn't technically a human, she corrected herself.

She seemed concerned as he drank, her nervous hands unsettling and shifting feet making soft scuffs. "Are you uncomfortable?" She nodded, and he saw the vast sea of eyes upon her. Both of them really, but everyone was transfixed on the quiet blond who dared speak to his Majesty. He felt something dark swirl in his gullet, a mix of anger, protection, and jealousy that he both questioned and understood. "Would you join me outside? I've been needing an excuse to leave this drab dance for a while."

Cindy looked up at him, a confused gleam in her eye. "Are you not entertained?"

He shrugged, a smile blooming on his pale face. "How can I be when you are the first to speak with me."

Cindy's smile grew at that, strutting to the Prince's side with eyes gleaming in a coating of happiness. "Well, your Majesty, some people find it unsavory to even consider needing to speak to royalty before they notice them." He laughed graciously, swallowing down his drink as Cindy sipped hers.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the gardens? I'd hate to go alone and I rather enjoy your company. Miss-?"

The woman laughed softly, placing her drink on a near empty platter as she stepped closer. "Oh, how awful of me. Cinderella, Cindy if you wish."

The prince grinned as he bowed to her, arm extended to the door behind them, opened and waiting for the lady to step inside. She took his hand and felt at peace as the boy led her into the garden, not too different from her own.  
\-------  
The two talked for two hours as they circled the courtyard and gated gardens. Cindy was transfixed by the sculpted rose bushes and midnight marigolds that grew like the common ivy at her home. The spoke of boring truths and fantasies, Cindy bitting down the urge to ask the prince of her memory. She laughed as she slipped a bright white rose behind the ear of the Prince at one point, a bright searing star in a sea of ebony curls. She was growing bored by his continued droning over his father's absence in royal affairs, things that she wasn't invested in the slightest. He retaliated quickly by grabbing her by her waist and tackling her into a tangled web of tiger lilies in a flurry of blue and white as he gave her a kiss that left her shaking in shock.

"Your highness I-!"

He placed a finger on her lips, a smile growing on his own. "It's true! You are her. The girl I met, when I was young. I knew we must've meet."

Cindy grew scarlet in the face, trying to sit up to keep dignified. "Why would you say that from a kiss? I have never kissed anyone in my life like that.” 

 

The prince laughed, a bright exuberant sound that made some close to the windows and gardens of the palace turn to look. "Cindy, you pecked my cheek as I left, saying you had to repay me for my generosity. That was the first time anyone had done that beside my mother. And even then she was never as sweet as you. I never forgot the feeling of your lips on my cheek.” 

A laugh erupted from her, mingling with his own as she kissed his cheek. "How sweet, I always wondered if you'd remember ever me, dear Prince."

He wrapped an arm around her, leading her towards a twisting hedge maze Cindy had found magnificent. The two laughed and kissed as he brought them to the center, wrapping around each other as they fell into the soft grass. He ran swift fingers through her hair as she gripped his shoulders, awestruck and completely enraptured. "So, what have you been doing for so long, fair princess?"

Cindy allowed herself a laugh as she tasted the bile of unease on her tongue. "It has been much less than fair, your highness." She tried to keep from smiling as she spoke but she had a feeling he'd encourage it from the look he gave her as he petted her hair. "My father died, the one your mother was visiting that day. He was a loyal and kind man. Always was. But he married a heartless woman, at least I suppose. She loved him. I was just a barrier when she was alive but... She never left my home, nor her daughters. And now, it feels like less of a home and more like a prison."

The Prince nodded wearily, stroking her cheek as she stared up at the star filled sky with tears welling in her eyes. "How could anyone hate something as beautiful as you?"

She laughed wearily, slick drops peeking over her eyes. "Who wouldn't when I am such an utter wreck. I don't even deserve these shoes, for god's sake, much less to be called a lady."

He placed a hand over her knee, steady warmth radiating through her as he started wiping away the tears as he leaned close to her. "Well, my lady, what if you became worthy of them?"

She only chuckled, cupping her hands in her lap, hooking around his arm, as she let the last string of tear drops fall from her eyes. "I do not know, my Prince, only that I would not be what I am if I deserved them."

The Prince merely nodded, staring up at the sky as he spoke softly. "I always pondered over why you had grown your hair so long. And then, from nothing at all, I realized why, and all I could think was, I feel I love her more."

A bright blush rose over her as he kissed her cheek, chaste and sweet. She stared into his long lashed eyes, pure orbs of azure blue that danced in the moonlight. She had known she had loved the boy from that fateful day since she had first lost any hint of ambiguity when it came to her gender. She'd worked quite diligently to get it back yet not hard enough. She swallowed, hands fisting in the grass. "Do you only love me when I am what I wish to be?"

He shook his head, coal curls covering his eyes as he leaned over her, a breath connecting the two. "I would love you if you went by your birth name, if you had never taken to Ella or Cindy. I would still love you, more than any woman or man or human who dared to wed me."

In a burst of courage, she locked lips with the royal whose gloves were growing grass stained from his grip. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he brushed his chest against hers, a shiver fluttering through them both. They become needy, fingers tracing want and excitement with frail gasps. They kissed hard, lips swelling gleefully as they lay on their sides, fingertips scraping skin and hair with a feather's breath.

Panting heavily, Cindy took the Prince's chin in her hand, smiling as she rubbed their noses together, curls bouncing around her arrow-like forehead. "How happy am l, my prince, that not even my midnight curfew scares me now." He kissed her, stroking her head as she leaned into his warmth.

He held her tight, the clock towering from the courtyard chiming out the eleventh hour. She stroked his curls as the stars seemed to swirl above them. "My lady, would you perhaps care to spare me a dance?" She chuckled softly, kissing his cheek.

"Why not. I would like to see how well my love can dance." That gave the prince immediate knowledge of the challenge she had issued.

The two laughed through their final hour spinning and flinging each other to music that was far off and fading, at one point seeing it as wholly useless and dancing a jig neither fully synced on. They held each other tight as the clock inched towards the XII far above, Cindy placing a sweet kiss upon his lips.

"My dearest, how may I find you once the time comes? I know not your true name, I am afraid."

She tapped her chin in thought, letting him lead her towards her carriage. She squeezed his hand, stepping out of a single slipper. "Go to every home in the kingdom until you find a woman who matches. My size is different than anyone else's and if it is not me, say you know my face and they do not match. I am ashamed of my name but, I know you trust me. I'm certain you will find me. And if anyone doubts your judgement, tell them every detail of my face tonight, even of my unsightly parts."

The prince nodded firmly, placing a final kiss on her cheek as he closed the door and bid her goodnight, clutching the craft work of gold and glass in his hand as she waved goodbye. The clock letting out its hollow chime as Cinderella slipped inside her warm home, dress now rags, carriage now a hollow gourd and her helpers, horse and coachman and driver, scurried into the garden with long pink tails behind them.  
\---------  
The search of the prince for 'The Blue Woman' was taking longer than theorized, stretching into over a week, and the boy grew frustrated by the amount of women he turned away. Not a single foot was even close to her size and many theorized she was a noble giant. He let out a groan as they marched out of farmhouse after farmhouse, running out of places that matched the humble fenced cottage her father had owned long ago. So, with heavy heart and weakening hope he led them to a country manor, held once by a favored veteran before he died and his wife erected a new home in her image.

He had heard of her two well loved daughters and the blond servant boy many a time from her cousin, The Lord of Gables. He had only parroted pleasant things about the sisters but he always seemed to find the veteran's son a hindrance for some 'vulgar lie' he took great pride with stowing away from the 'fragile hearts of noble women and majestic men'.

Still, he rapt on the door with an expectant smile on his chapped lips. He noted how loose his curls had become, spilling into his field of vision in a sable curtain. He had only seen it in such a state when he rose before dawn. He didn't mind it much, but felt his mother might have.

A bright red haired maid opened the door, giving a curt bow as she stepped aside for the royal, recognizing him from a few days past. He nodded respectfully as he stepped inside, clutching the slipper to his chest. The inside felt familiar underneath a layer of foreign hues and contours. He could almost smell the fresh wildflowers from a faded spring as he strode past bare dressers and pristine portraits of the ladies of the home. He was so caught up in the familiarity of it all, that he did not see the portrait of a small family.

The picture was simple; the man of the home in the center, flanked by a tall blonde mistress and a smaller blonde child, curls of pure gold spilling over their shoulders covered in silky satin and velvet ribbons holding them out of their face, save a reckless curl or three. The child was obviously feminine but the lack of quiet or submissiveness in their eyes caused many to question the child's state. They were dressed in gown and had hair almost to their thighs, yet they did not have the accepted state of womanhood all girls had once at the age of five or six. As the prince spoke with the lead servant to call forth every woman in the household, the majority of his caravan stood around the portrait debating the child by the general's side.

The prince had a rekindling of hope as the girl's painted eyes met his own. How familiar that smile was, how warm her eyes made him. His hope was faltered though as only three woman appeared before him, woman of gray and pitch and garnet strands adorned in amethyst and juniper and marigold. Not even close to his bride made up in pure shades of canary and gold and cerulean and ocean covering skin of peach with cheeks that glowed the hue of ripe cantaloupe and lips a shade of mulberry wine. He shook his head at them, trying to focus on finding his love and not dreaming of her, making more curls falling in his eyes.

"Forgive me, kind ladies, but I remember my love's face. And she had the most stunning blue eyes and pure golden hair. Along with that her shoe would most certainly not match those," he concluded, pointing out the small space lined with flats and heels and boots, all for slim feet with pressed toes. He heard a soft gasp and locked eyes with the pitch haired sister, a small smile on her coral lips that made him stand slightly taller. "Therefore, there must be another woman in your home. One like her," he finished with a flourishing point to the portrait behind him. The head woman, the stepmother he now knew, was clutching her hands behind her. The sisters were inversions of each other, one hiding giddiness behind long hair and one stiff with rage and distaste. He could almost hear the flame haired girl grinding her teeth.

"Your Majesty, I assure you we are the only woman in this household. The only other child is my stepson, but he is quite disrespectful."

A smirk peeked at his lips. "Disrespect towards hellish people is common among good meaning men, is it not? I see no reason to hide an intellectual man! Might I meet him? This house has an eery sense of familiarity. And if that person in the portrait is your stepson, then he looks quite familiar as well. So, might I see if he knows of my love? Given all the other coincidences I've found here, it wouldn't be shocking to see they too are connected."

He strode past, giving his men a simple glance for them to infer he wanted a search for the boy. And at that moment, Cindy's pounding from the pantry on the other side of the house was heard, over the stomping feet and the grinding of teeth and the Prince's cold glare at the sister with cardinal hair.  
\-------  
Curtis stepped out of the pantry, with shaking limbs. He gripped his wrists, the worker's uniform he'd adjusted to match his disorder making his cheeks glow, exactly as she had wanted. The Madam was snarling at the poor lad at this point, piercing yellow eyes burying into him as he bowed before the troop of gawking eyes.

He certainly fit the portrait, despite his shorn hair. He was blonde and blue and peach all wrapped in tawny cloth, the embodiment of innocence in his uncomfortable shuffle as he spoke. She could see the strain of emotions buried beneath his placid mask as his voice trembled out.

"Afternoon," he greeted, rubbing his wrists in front of him. "I'm so sorry; I must've made an awful ruckus. The door locked on me and I... Do not fare well in the dark; I'm afraid." He let out a frail cough as the eyes turned away, shamed at doubting the child before them.

The Prince couldn't have been more obvious with his emotions in contrast, tears forming in his eyes as he looked into the boy's, hands shaking from restraint. But no, The Madam would not let this disgusting creature have the place in the royal family that was so rightfully hers. She slipped next to the Prince with a wide smile as she pulled on Curtis' curls, bringing him forward with a slight sob.

"Forgive my stepson," she pleaded with all her acting prose. "He knows not that he is ill! Day and night he cries out over the body God gave him. Frankly, I am at the end of rope, repeating myself of how idiotic this all truly is! But please, don't make him embarrass himself so publicly."

He scowled at her, freezing her in place. His eyes were pure crystal, seeming to halt the movement of each and every individual but himself as he strode towards the woman. He threw away her hand from the boy, holding out a hand to him.

"My eyes are not damaged, dear lady. And the person before me is no son of yours." Curtis was already firmly wrapped around his waist, head cradled to his chest as if he was a protective child. "This is a woman. If you can not see that, then I do not value your eyes, nor your word." He hugged her tightly as he took her hand. The Madam was left, hands still holding air as the two went back to the foyer where the shoe and a smiling Alena awaited her.

\-----  
As Cindy was carried off on the same horse as her prince, there seemed to be a great sigh of relief through the whole of her home. The house let out a sigh as the only one who cared for it was freed to be happy, the Prince's men sighed at the promise of home and calmer nights. And the prince sighed underneath her, happy to finally hold a true bride. So, Cindy let out her own sigh, as happiness washed over herself, a slight tear slipping past her in retaliation at her exuberance.  
\-------

His mother took to Cindy much easier than they had foreseen. His father, the loving dope that he was, didn't even question her strange structure or nervous disposition at the mention of children. All in all, Cindy was respected here, his mother taking great care to ensure only the two of them would see her when she was most vulnerable and that not a single servant could say a harsh word towards her, lest they lose their place in the household. She took time to herself regularly to maintain a figure she trusted and he held her close at night when she asked him.

He'd had relations with men and wasn't opposed to the thought of her but she grew shamed at times and he would never let her do something that hurt. He treated her with the reverence of a god as she grew more and more beautiful by the day. They knew each other's limits and would rather die than cross them. Respect made up their love and they found comfort in each other with little to no trial.

She kept herself busy outside of their quarters though, and, thus, grew intrigued at the meetings held by the Royal parliament. She was an effective viceroy to the King and Prince, allowing a boost in the economy and welfare of much of the kingdom. She was already respected by the people, widely known as the true noble woman of their country.

Still, sometimes she would get glares and scrutiny yet, she had grown quite the acting prose from one too many confrontations with Elena. Soon she was renowned for it, a woman with the mind and strength of any true man. She was no longer a joke, she was a figurehead for women to follow in. And if anyone questioned if she was truly a woman, they had only to look at her and the prince to understand.

He never once faulted her. He knew how secure she became when he introduced his wife and he would never let that fall. No one doubted the prince, why would he ever lie about the wife he was so proud of? Not a soul could see Cindy as anything but a woman whom he loved and who loved him back, as rare and sure something so pure was.

When the two rescued a pair of children to raise as heirs not a single eyebrow was raised, knowing they saw more valor in creating new lives for those who'd been wronged than creating a child of privilege and heartlessness, as even the purest of hearts had. And so, with a young princess of seven and a prince of six, the prince and his queen grew to be the most respected and renowned royals in the whole hemisphere, and Cindy would never have to hear her birth name ever again. Thus, true happiness became their reality.

**Author's Note:**

> "What can I say, I'm a sucker for a happy ending"-Martha in Beautiful from Heathers the Musical (Don't listen is you value your purity or hate foul language)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my story! Comments and critiques are always appreciated and are valued for help and support.


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